Eric Clapton paints the blue   Leave a comment

Or varnish. Whatever.

Feels like a long time since I wrote anything here. Busy busy busy. Catch-up time again.

Sunday I didn’t sleep in that late, but when I got up I did muck around and play AI War until about 4pm. This could be considered wasting about half the day, if you don’t properly appreciate AI War.

Unfortunately, I also had stuff to do. I’d meant to go to the shops, but Sunday opening hours (or my laziness, delete as applicable) knackered that one. Instead I hammered in the gripper-strip nails thoroughly with a nail-punch (on Saturday I’d just hit them in as far as possible with a claw-hammer). This involved holding something with my hands an inch or two away from lots of little metal spikes, and then swinging a hammer at it. Fun. Amazingly, I didn’t manage to injure myself.

Then I gave the door a quick sanding and hoovered up all the muck that sanding and bashing had materialised.

Sunday’s main event was a barbecue at my parents’. Unfortunately, when I mentioned that I should put a new tube in my bike tyre, mum decided I wanted a lift and so arranged that my uncle would pick me up, because if the opportunity to be an interfering nuisance presents itself she’s going to grab it with both hands, and probably also her teeth. Surely if I had wanted a lift I would have asked for a lift, and not said that I should fix the thing that means lifts aren’t necessary? But no, she wouldn’t want to cycle three miles, and therefore nobody would ever want to cycle three miles. And she can’t leave alone because that would mean she wouldn’t feel like the single point of pure import, right and goodness about which the entire universe revolves. For crying out loud.

And she pestered me about my ear whilst I was there, because if you make the stupid (but, in this case, sadly unavoidable) mistake of telling her about anything she will go on about it, incessantly. Yes there is still tinnitus, no I’m not having anything else done because there is nothing to be done as I’ve said plenty of times before and why are you pestering me it’s none of your bloody business because it’s my bloody ear and you are not helping.

Sigh. At least there were only background levels of bigoted stupidity. You’d hardly have known they read the Daily Express.

Barbecues are tasty. They also make logging calories consumed a nightmare. You don’t know how many calories things have in them, and you don’t know how much you ate. So the data is pretty much guesswork and estimation, apart from the bits that’re completely made up. Ho hum. I may have eaten something like 3,090, perhaps. With no exercise for some reason.

On returning home, I gave the door its second coat of varnish. Probably some people would think it’s weird to paint and varnish after midnight.


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